The Swiss Family Robinson; or, Adventures on a Desert IslandWyss, Johann David
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The Swiss Family Robinson; or, Adventures on a Desert Island
Wyss, Johann David
Family life -- Fiction; Islands -- Fiction; Survival -- Fiction
Afterward we sat together for a long time, enjoying the calm beauty of
the morning, and talking of all that had taken place on the memorable
days of the storm a year ago; for I desired that the awful events of
that time should live in the remembrance of my children with a deepening
sense of gratitude for our deliverance. Therefore I read aloud passages
from my journal, as well as many beautiful verses from the Psalms,
expressive of joyful praise and thanksgiving, so that even the youngest
among us was impressed and solemnized at the recollections of escape
from a terrible death, and also led to bless and praise the name of the
Lord our Deliverer.
Dinner followed shortly after this happy service, and I then announced
for the afternoon a "Grand Display of Athletic Sports," in which I and
my wife were to be spectators and judges.
"Father, what a grand idea!"
"Oh, how jolly! Are we to run races?"
"And prizes! Will there be prizes, father?"
"The judges offer prizes for competition in every sort of manly
exercise," replied I. "Shooting, running, riding, leaping, climbing,
swimming; we will have an exhibition of your skill in all. Now for it!"
"Trumpeters! sound for the opening of the lists."
Uttering these last words in a stentorian voice and wildly waving my
arms toward a shady spot, where the ducks and geese were quietly
resting, had the absurd effect I intended.
Up they all started in a fright, gabbling and quacking loudly, to the
infinite amusement of the children, who began to bustle about in eager
preparations for the contest, and begging to know with what they were to
begin.
"Let us have shooting first, and the rest when the heat of the day
declines. Here is a mark I have got ready for you," said I, producing a
board roughly shaped like a kangaroo, and of about the size of one. This
target was admired, but Jack could not rest satisfied till he had added
ears, and a long leather strap for a tail.
It was then fixed in the attitude most characteristic of the creature,
and the distance for firing measured off. Each of the three competitors
was to fire twice.
Fritz hit the kangaroo's head each time; Ernest hit the body once; and
Jack, by a lucky chance, shot the ears clean away from the head, which
feat raised a shout of laughter.
A second trial with pistols ensued, in which Fritz again came off
victor.
Then desiring the competitors to load with small shot, I threw a little
board as high as I possibly could up in the air, each in turn aiming at
and endeavoring to hit it before it touched the ground.
In this I found to my surprise that the sedate Ernest succeeded quite as
well as his more impetuous brother Fritz.
As for Jack, his flying board escaped wholly uninjured.
After this followed archery, which I liked to encourage, foreseeing that
a time might come when ammunition would fail; and in this practice I
saw with pleasure that my elder sons were really skillful, while even
little Franz acquitted himself well.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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